


Trouble In Paradise

by YourKnightOfRage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: >;), Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Cheating, Child Neglect, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Heroes, Humanstuck, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Mentioned Character Death, Mistrust, Romanticism, So not really character death, Superheroes, Suspected Cheating, Violence, but it's just a nightmare, but like not in detail, but theyre just slight mentions, but yall be careful, car accident caused death, i did point out where it happens though, injuries, internal struggles, its like a sentece, just like a hint of hurt/comfort, literally all the things that one comes to expect when daves raised by bro, mentions of child abuse, misplaced mistrust, radio hosting, seriously, shady behaviour, so if you want you can skip those parts, theyre engaged yall, yall i dont wanna spoil anything bu i also dont wanna discourage anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourKnightOfRage/pseuds/YourKnightOfRage
Summary: “Hello, I’m uhh, Amy?”“That’s not your real name, huh?”“No, not really.” Fuck. That usually meant that it was not going to be an easy thing and it would require his actual attention.“Well, tell me ‘Amy’ what did you need help with?”“What do you do when your husband is cheating on you?”For probably the first time in Karkat’s career there was a pause, a moment of silence before he could respond. That was the million dollar question. How was he supposed to answer when he was he first one to ask himself that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Would you look at this, I'm tryna do a multi chapter again!  
> I should manage to put out a chapter a week, especially since most of it is complete and I only need to write the last chapter, really. 
> 
> This was one of those fics that you write when you picture a sene that is like two thirds of the road down the story and then you find yourself forced to write the whole damn thing, but im weirdly proud of it, and to think that the main thing that made me want to act on that idea ws a post on Tumblr.com going "I love fanfiction because there couples never break up and even if they do it can never be becusse one of them cheted, it's an unspoken rule"

It was a slow day at the station.  
The day’s theme came easy to him, almost worryingly so, he barely thought, the words just came to him and into the mic with a placid rhythm, almost worryingly so.

It felt repetitive but nobody else seemed to really care. He was certain he’d repeated the same sentence a few times back to back but it seemed as if nobody noticed or cared.

The mic was in front of him, a sense of worry started to grow within him. He could feel his heart beat faster.  
Why?  
The mic was in front of him, the side of his eye caught someone moving to his left  
He turned He turned There was a man dressed in red next to him, looking at him, breathing hard

He turned up the volume for the next song, he turned, there was a man dressed in red next to him, leaning on the desk A man in red next to him, leaning on Karkat’s chair, breathing hard, his hand to his side as blood poured out and onto his white shirt

There was a man- there was Dave next to him, wounded  
Breathing was hard  
He stood up quickly helping Dave to sit on his chair, frantically screaming, asking what happened but Dave just kept on breathing heavily looking at him with a tremble unanswering

His body moved on its own as his mind raced in a storm of panic and confusion with lightnings of fear  
Karkat took off his shirt, pressed it to Dave’s side, trying to stop the blood but it wouldn't, it wouldn't, it wouldn't!  
His hand was sticky and hot; the blood dropped out of time Dave’s breathing was laboured his body shook Karkat called screamed shouted for help He could see someone through the glass, why was they not coming to help?  
His throat was hoarse tears flowed down his cheeks, his face was on fire head spinning he could hear his own heartbeat and Dave was dying

Dave was dying he was about to die in front of him his Dave was about to die in front of him and no one would fucking help  
He looked around the spinning room his eyes darting across the glass over his equipment to the useless mic at the chair now on the floor and his Dave bleeding beneath him and then everything stopped.

There was a hand on his cheek.

He looked down at Dave, his face was beaten and bruised, but he smiled. His lips moved.

“What?”  
Dave repeated himself but not a breath came out. He tried again but Karkat couldn't hear, he couldn't. He- was moving his lips.

“I lov-” and his hand dropped and his hand dropped and his lips stopped and he wasn't breathing anymore and his hand dropped and he was growing cold quickly and his hand dropped and all Karkat could do was watch him he couldn't look away and his hand dropped-

Karkat woke with a start.  
The room was silent. He could hear the sound of traffic outside and his own laboured breathing. His frenzied heartbeat against his chest, but it wasn't enough.  
He turned in the bed, looking for his fiance’s heat, maybe he wasn't in an awkward position and Karkat would manage to cuddle up to him.

Tears were already welling up in his eyes, it was hard not to freak out, so some physical comfort would be just about great.

His hand reached next to him, feeling the soft sheets by his side, but the bed was empty next to him.

All drowsiness washed out of him and he sat up with enough speed to make his head spin.  
Had Dave died? No. No! They were supposed to get married in the summer, they were happy he couldn't have died, he didn't remember that- The stickiness was so vivid and real, he felt as if his hands were still covered in blood; he rubbed at them to get the blood off.

 

“Oh sorry. Did I wake you up?” The whisper came from the door. Dave was standing there, one hand on the frame as a stripe of thin light graced him where the blinds didn't cover the window entirely.

Without waiting for a beat Karkat threw himself at the blonde, cupping his face and pulling him in a desperate and hopeless kiss. His hand then dropped to Dave's chest, his back and he just pulled him closer, in a hug, wanting him to be impossibly close. Just needing to place this memory, these feelings, in place of the nightmare.

Relief washed over him, his heart almost felt like it lost two pounds as his fingers curled in the fabric of Dave’s shirt, the old cotton being just too rough to go along smoothly.  
It took a few seconds for his head to clear out. At least clear out enough that he noticed Dave’s own arms holding him close, steady and gentle against Karkat’s death grip.

“Ssht, it’s alright. I’m here, it’ll be alright.” He kissed the top of Karkat’s head and gave his forearm a light squeeze.  
“Come to bed, you’ll freeze like this.”

He wasn't fully registering yet. He knew he was supposed to move, to walk, but his own body betrayed him, staying put. He wasn't registering yet, but the next thing he knew is that he was on the bed, straddling Dave’s hips as his fiance pulled the comforter around him making most of it fall to the ground.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever. They stayed like that until Karkat ran out of words and tears. Dave didn't need to hear about the nightmare but, since this shit had become routine by now, Karkat droned on, hoping that getting it out through words would remove it from his memory while knowing it would have the opposite outcome.

 

“Thank you.”  
Karkat hated how his voice came out, making him sound like a kid, small and scared.

“What for?”  
“Dealing with me? I don't know.”  
He felt hopeless and exhausted, already dreading the day to come that was already ruined. He didn’t even have the energy to move off Dave, he tried curling his fingers at least, move his arms, but they lay lazily at his sides, he barely managed to half curl his fingers.

Dave let himself fall back down on the mattress, bringing Karkat down with him.  
“You don't have to thank me, dude I-”  
“But I do!”  
The blonde pinched his side.

“You don't. I want you to be alright, Karkat.”  
Neither of them raised their voice above a whisper during this. The cars outside seemed to have disappeared in the bubble of intimacy they’d built, not daring to even break the heavy silence between their lines.

“... Thank you.”  
“...Okay. You know I love you, right?”  
“I love you too.”  
Cheesy, but still, it made him feel somewhat better.  
He pulled his hands up, hooking them to Dave’s shoulders and he knew they must have mad his position uncomfortable, but he liked the warmth and softness against his palms.

“Wanna try and sleep again?”  
He didn't want to, what if the nightmare repeated itself? But he was emotionally drained already, he would probably just lay in bed until the sheer exhaustion took him into a heavy and black sleep.  
Fuck, he was going to be tired the whole day when the sun actually rose up.

He nodded his head in the crook of Dave’s neck.

“Like this?”  
He nodded again.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew he should’ve stayed home instead.

Karkat wasn’t really one to go out all that often; Sure he’d make his trips to the station and back, and sometimes he went out to the grocery store, and every now and again he went to visit some friends, and- Actually, he did go out more than he’d like to admit.   
However, his point still stood: Karkat should’ve stayed home instead and he knew it.

 

Karkat had decided that it was a nice enough day, so he could just go out, grab something hot to drink as he worked on an upcoming episode. The idea was brilliant and there was this one lovely caffe with the nice barista that somehow knew exactly how much cinnamon Karkat liked in his drink and his laptop was miraculously fully charged that morning.

It was as if the Universe itself were telling him to go out and enjoy himself.

 

So Karkat went out, ordered a venti and set his laptop and notebook on a table just outside the shop hoping his hands wouldn’t freeze forcing him to shamefully walk back in. 

Obviously that issue did not present himself. 

 

It happened as the host was going back to his seat, coffee in hand, he could almost feel the light sting of cinnamon on his lips as he moved the chair back.

But since his life sucked, as soon as he decided to have a nice day out, shit hit the fan.

 

The ground shook with a deafening sound, the rumble of an explosion that Karkat could feel way deep inside his chest, his eyes went wide and then shut suddenly as he instinctively turned away from the explosion, covering his head with an arm. He could feel his heart beating way too fast as his mind raced in panic and he turned away.

As if that would help any.

 

He hated every last thing of the dumb way in which he was going to die. 

 

Then a chest. In his movement away from the explosion he hit a chest and the chest’s owner wrapped an arm around his back, and held Karkat’s arm, the one with the coffee, with the other. His grip was steady, maybe a bit too tight.

 

“Careful there,” The guy spoke in a thick texan accent. Karkat was suddenly reminded of how much he hated the guy and his comically deep, Batmanesque, voice. “ya might give a feller a wrong idea.”    
Karkat straightened up a little, putting some distance between the two, only keeping contact by a hand on the asshole’s chest to keep him at a distance. 

  
That absolute waste of air and super-powers was Red Dasher apparently the area’s Superhero.

He regularly wore black sweatpants, a red shirt with a damn cape and hood and covered his face up with a black mask because it seemed like no big deal to stop and change outfits for a time controlling freak. Just the sight of him pissed Karkat off, and the way he always hit on him was of no help.   
  


But that day in particular, he wanted to punch the guy’s teeth in, mainly because his outfit was in disarray, as if he’d put it on on a hurry?

“Come on,  we'ave t'hurry-up!”   
He didn’t even stop to banter, he just went straight for Karkat’s hand and started pulling him away. Karkat wasn’t having it: he set his feet down, pulling back while holding onto the hand.

 

“What the fuck?”

“We have to take my stuff, it’s got a month’s work on it-” His hand tightened on Red’s and he pulled the hero towards his table without noticing.

“We don’t’ve time-”   
“You control time!”   
Red Dasher made a full body eye-roll while groaning, but left Karkat’s hand. 

He placed the bag in Karkat’s arms before taking ahold of his hand again and started running.

 

Karkat’s brain hadn’t even had the time to fully register the jump that Dasher did in what, to him, felt not even a tenth of a second; but he was running.

Since when did Red Dasher do things quickly?

He usually took his time to stop and talk and try to joke around.

He hated that he had an 'usual’ for being saved from mortal danger.

  
“Why are we running?” He could barely keep up, being literally dragged by the hand as if by a chain on a car.

“It’s complicated.” Karkat was ridiculously out of shape if his body hurting already could be taken as evidence. Why the fuck was he running?

 

Suddenly Red stopped, dead on his tracks, he put his other arm in front of Karkat, firm and solid, stopping him from taking even one step more.

Karkat was confused and was seriously not into all the liberties that Dasher took with invading his personal space.

 

A car straight up fell from the sky and crashed right in front of them. 

 

An other Red Dasher came out of it holding his head and groaning, the cape was pulling on his neck until he took it off, gasping for air as if drowning. 

Karkat was about to ask something, wonder what the fuck was going on, but the Red Dasher holding his hand started running again, even harder this time.

 

“There’s two of you? You can do that?!”

“Complicated!” he screamed, in that hoarse voice of his, and the radio host realized that this was the very first time he‘d seen Red Dasher actually worry, or hell even sound uneasy. 

Soon thereafter Karkat was unceremoniously shoved into an alley already filled with people. They all seemed to have been left and stuck mid-sentence.

 

“Fuck, I hope this is alright, Karkat. Stay safe.” And just like that he left him.

 

The explosion went off just far enough not to be dangerous, at this distance, while everyone else finished saying their word, or turned just to see Red was missing already, replaced by someone just as scared and confused as them. A girl that was suddenly right by Karkat’s side gasped.

  
  


Police and ambulances started showing up.    
The police Karkat could understand, they always came in after things like these just to make it look more official, call everyone’s next of kin if necessary, and put people that had gotten into shock at ease.

It was a first for the ambulances.

 

As much as Karkat hated Red Dasher he always did a good job at making sure nobody got hurt or killed. Or at least he did up until that point, apparently. 

  
  


***

 

Dave had been worried sick, he’d called Karkat as soon as the news reached him (the younger supposed) and started asking if everything was alright, telling Karkat he’d meet him in no time

Karkat tried to ease the situation up a little, assuring his boyfriend that everything was good. Even better, for once Red hadn’t had time to stand by and start up some banter, maybe hit on him, so things were even great!

 

Dave still was’t sold, he became extra cuddly and attentive for a bit. The following day he even prepared breakfast, luring Karkat in the kitchen with a warm buttery smell. Dave welcomed him with a hot cup of tea and bread toasted in butter with nutella and peanut butter.

 

“Are you trying to kill me via diabetes? Is this how you became rich, by collecting insurance money of people you killed?”

It hit Karkat only then, just how worried Dave really was. Karkat was used to needing saving, so much so that a few times Dave even asked if he needed to consider Dasher a possible rival. Dave had always called, always checked in, but it was just then that Karkat understood that this time something special must have happened. 

Had the cops told him about the fact that Dasher seemed to grapple with the issue of someoene not caring that Time had stopped? He really just wanted this to blow over quickly, why would the cops tell the pubblic that?

“Yes. Now sit down I’m starting to run low on liquids.”

They exchanged a quick kiss that made Dave cringe at Karkat’s morning breath. Karkat responded by breathing hard in the other’s face, that earned him aagrossed out face and a whine.

 

“Dude I made breakfast, why are you punishing me?”

With a light smile on his lips Karkat went to sit down, eying the food somewhere on the line between sad and disgust.

 

“Seriously I think just looking at this is making the sugar levels in my blood skyrocket. And you know how much I like to focus on health which is not at all but-”

 

“Buddy you almost exploded just yesterday. Maybe like treat yo self?” Dave sat on the chair next to Karkat’s, resting an elbow on the table and gesturing sluggishly with his hands while still being turned towards his boyfriend.

“But also I mean we’re still young and, at least I, beautiful so why worry about the whole health and well-being thing? I say we put that aside until we hit thirty five.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes but was ripping a piece of bread off before Dave could finish talking. He took the piece in his mouth and just- straight out- moaned while letting his shoulders drop and rolling his eyes back.

 

Was he going to feel guilty about it all day? Yes. But Lord Almighty was it good.

 

“I wish I could make you sound like that.”

“Keep dreaming, Strider.”

 

He scoffed and was just about to start talking again, probably some dumb remark, when his phone rang.

 

Dave paused, looking at Karkat before checking the screen, tilting it slightly towards himself. He even stood up and gently patted Karkat’s shoulder before walking to the bedroom to answer. 

 

Huh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a dude that's red themed and has time powera appears but nobody has any idea of what that means still.  
> Honestly this story might jave more potential as an original work but oh well.
> 
> So if I have to be completely honest here I am not terribly happy with this chapter. I have read it and re read it and written it three times and changed so much but still. It feels as if there's something missing. 
> 
> Please of you have any suggestions as to how to make this better I will be happy to listen to you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat working, a proposal, and also: DATE NIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> Its ya girl. 
> 
> So, if you were expecting a chapter last week I was thinking of making this fic a biweekly thing?  
> lemme know if you think that'd b a bad idea???
> 
>  
> 
> honestly idk if anyine woukd even care much lol

He knew that he might run out of time if he kept up like this and it’s not even that he’s one of those people who doesn't like to talk over the end of a song.

But when he liked a song he was gonna listen to it 'till the end, damn it.

 

The booth smelled of his coffee with an aftertaste of hard wood and leather chairs, and the place was just a bit below being too hot to be comfortable. 

Karkat mouthed the words along as he checked his papers one last time, just to be sure he'd make as little an ass of himself as possible.

 

He took a sip of coffee (one cream, five sugars) and a deep breath before flipping a switch .

 

“And that was 'The I In Lie’ by Patrick Stump you just listened to. Honestly that album deserved so much better than it got, if you asked me, but that’s not my show. No, that I’ll leave to the assholes of the 8:30 show, although we all know they could use to have at least one brain, instead of the gaping hole they share, somehow managing to divide zero by the two of them.”

His voice came steady, in a rapid fire as he moved his hands gesticulating almost as if the people listening to him could hear him. After years of theatre and radio hosting he’d perfected his diction, clearing the way he pronounces every syllable in a word, enunciating every word clearly. He was somewhat happy every time he noticed he didn't stumble on the space between two words.

 

His thumb ran briefly on his engagement ring and he tapped his middle finger on the table as his hand jumped up and down. The movement had quickly turned in an anxious tick after spending about ten minutes just staring at his hand when he first got it. For days he would get caught just moving the rig this and that way to look at how the light reflected off of it, studying whether it shone brighter in the natural or artificial light.

He just couldn't believe it for the first week or so.

 

“No, this is a romantic advice show. You’re listening to Rose Buddies on Radio DeeJay and I’m Karkat Vantas, strap in, assholes.”

Over the glass in the studio he could see Mark roll his eyes as he did everything management suggested he avoid and kept going.

 

“Alright, so! Today we talk about dates, dates, dates! We’ve had a bunch of you talk about the best and worst dates already so how about we check some of the texts and emails asking for advice you nook fondlers sent?”

He consciously breathed in again. He was lucky for being such an asshole and being used to rant off, but damn did he need to find a way not to stop breathing when he started one.

 

He lifted a paper, so that he could read directly into the mic.

“'Hello Karkat-’ Hi to you too, but you really don't need to always say hi, dipshits, we’ve been over this.

'-I need your help for a date idea and I really don't know where to ask. I’ve been dating my girlfriend for four years now, five when February rolls around and I wanted to take her on a special date to propose. How do I make the date awesome so that she says yes? Please send help.’

And that was from 'UselessLesbian in Louisiana’.” he paused for a second, to moist his lips.

 

“Ok but shouldn't you have given some information about her too since we’re at it? Like it would've been useful since i’m not omniscient. Whatever, at least we’ve already got someone ringing in let’s see if they have any suggestion.”

 

He got the ok from Mark and connected the call. Karkat had no time to do his usual intro before the person on the other end started talking.

“Take her to the porn session of a library saying whoever finds the worst sex scene wins, make her find a ring in the worst book.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes and yet, just the thought tugged the corners of his lips upward: on November tenth Dave had taken him to a cozy bookshop that smelled of cinnamon and tea for date night. 

Karkat had bitched about it, but the rain that tried to imitate waterfalls outside and the warm, smokey air in the store changed his mind quickly. 

 

They played two rounds of that silly game, winning one time each and the whole thing had awoken his competitive spirit, so using a loophole was definitely on the table.

Karkat had gone straight for one of the books he had already read, his hands itched expecting the feeling of new paper and victory. He knew perfectly just how bad one scene was, and started bracing himself. Instead he found the book to be hollowed out, with a small box inside. 

 

He was petrified, frozen in place.

 

He felt Dave’s arm wrap around his middle as his boyfriend wrapped his arms around Karkat’s waist, his fingers interlacing with those of his opposite hand just below Karkat’s belly, and he rested his chin on Karkat’s shoulder.

With a shaking hand Karkat reached for the box picking it up, unable to open it. Not just yet.

He was scared he’d drop the little box. It was covered in velvet that felt soft and almost ticklish on his fingertips.

But he could not bring himself to hold on tighter to it.

 

At that point Dave started whispering, purring, into his ear what he read on the page making up the bottom of the impromptu container.

It turned out to actually be Karkat’s favourite confession from an other book, but Dave kept saying Karkat’s name instead of the character’s and then he changed the ending, and asked Karkat to become his husband rather than to forgive him.

 

It made something in Karkat snap, he transformed into a hiccuping mess and turned, book and box still in hand. Dave seemed rather scared, but definitely serious and when he opened the box to reveal a ring his hand was trembling, fingers shaking just hard enough for him to almost miss the box.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but then Dave kneeled, looking up at Karkat with all of his love and admiration on display.

 

Somebody chimed in making the bell above the door tingle softly just as Karkat said yes. From then on Dave would call that his favorite sound.

 

“First things first, I call copyright on that kinda  proposal and nobody I know of is allowed to do it the same way. Secondly: hey, Dave.”

 

“Aren't I supposed to have rights on that?”

“Dave you know the drill, this is work so don't steal airtime. Give advice or be gone.”

 

When their relationship had become serious Dave started randomly calling in, which was fun, and many people liked it, but Karkat did want to keep some semblance of professional behavior.

 

“You’re always so harsh with me-”

“My finger is hovering over the end call button.”

“Boo you ass.” Karkat leaned back and took a sip of coffee and tapping his finger to the mug, as he got ready for whatever rant his fiance was about to set off. “Maybe you could go to the aquarium and then- surprise!- an ostrich opens and it has a ring inside. She says yes cause you just made a damn ostrich carry a ring for you, how can she say no, the issue is that you have to go recover the ring and also the ostrich was in the hungry hungry shark tank and you get vored in front of her.”

 

Karkat rolled his eyes and humed in fake thought, he even raised his hand to stroke a phantom beard as he pondered the offer.

“Let’s put it in maybe if everything else manages to be more idiotic.”

 

“Oh, so I have to do better,” His voice made him sound amused now, maybe a bit as if he were taking on a challenge.

“How about this then: get in a hot air balloon and reach the highest you're allowed to during the sunset, have an early dinner and watch the city lights cause damned pollution made the stars not an option and global warming is a real issue. How about that?”

 

Karkat put down his coffee and ignored the lingering feeling of warmth in his hand. “That… actually sounds really nice.”

“Yeah? I’ll send someone to pick you up right after work then. Maybe bring a blanket? Love ya.” and he hung up.

“Wait- what? I mean me too, but- Dave!”

 

That is how Karkat found himself way up in the sky as it coloured in purples and pinks and oranges and the clouds turned to gold, creating shadows that literally cut the light through the sky as if it had been a child painting it that evening. The lines were clear even in the gaudy sky.

 

Dave was wearing a two piece suit; a slim fit that hugged his hips in the best way possible and, judging by the sheer number of times he wore that, one of his favourites. Karkat felt really under-dressed until Dave took his jacket off, letting it rest on the edge of the basket and rolled his sleeves up revealing his wrist watch: one of those awful looking ones which displayed a full date along with the time. Dave always kept it at the wrong time for 'ironic reasons'.

 

They stood close to the edge of the basket, watching, as the few first lights started turning on, tentative fireflies in the asbestos forest.

Karkat rested his head on Dave’s shoulder with a sigh, feeling the last shreds of the day’s tension leaving his body. 

The moment felt easy and tranquil, not even the strain of standing up made it less pleasant.

 

Two glasses of wine sat easily in their hands, the diaphanous liquid in them tasted of something sweet and peachy, almost forgetting how bitter and dry wines are supposed to be.

 

Dave’s hand felt warm on top of his own as he started to idly stroke his thumb to the back of the host's hand and, for a moment, it felt almost as if that was his only tie the world and it’s reality.

 

“How did you think this up?”

Dave wasn't startled, he just spared Karkat a look, with that lingering genuine smile he kept only for him on his lip.

 

“In my defense, I wanted to go to the zoo and find the animal with the weirdest ass but they’re closed today.”

“Of course you wanted to. What is it, you missed seeing your face?”

Dave choked a little and tried to hide the smile by taking a sip out of his own glass.

 

“Hey, you kiss this animal’s weird ass.”

Karkat couldn't hold the laugh back at his complete monotone, rolling to rest his forehead on Dave. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to dedicate this to the members of the Karkat Thisrst Server TM on discord. 
> 
> I told you you should trust me but I'm yall saw this coming. I hope one day I'll be a writeras good as some of you guys.

At some point Dave had stopped calling in at the station. That was a bit weird: as much as Karkat hated to admit it Dave’s calls had become a regular occurance,  besides the listeners loved it. They said it was a bit like getting a peek into their lives and that such easy banter was ‘relationship goals!’.

On the fourth day a few people had even called to ask if everything was fine between them, because apparently ‘Your relationship is the most stable one I’ve ever seen’ and ‘This is like going through my parents’ divorce all over again!’ 

 

It was absurd, Dasher’s appearances had doubled in number and length, actually getting his ass beat a few times instead of just stopping time and have whoever he wanted to get be suddenly on the ground with his knee on their back. Valentine was approaching with the imminent extra efforts to put into romance, the world was going crazy, and complot  theories were regarded in almost the same fashion as news. Which wasn't really that disheartening since the actual news got weirder by the second.

 

And what people cared about was the fact that Karkat’s fiance was busy at work.

 

Karkat had assured everyone that everything was fine and it wasn’t actually Dave’s job to call in to offer entertainment so why the fuck would he consistently do it?

It was fine, maybe a bit less fun than usual, but Karkat couldn’t see what was the big deal about it.

  
  


In the following days Dave started coming home much later than usual. That was unheard of: Obviously sometimes he got stuck in traffic, but Dave had never before come home hours late without a word of warning.

That had actually managed to piss Karkat off. He’d been worried sick, twisting and taking his ring on and off again and again and again. He had no idea what could have possibly gone wrong, he was attached to the phone circling through all of their shared friends or even Dave’s co-workers to see if anyone had any clue where the fuck he might be after two hours of unexpected radio silence.   
  
When he finally showed up, after almost three hours and a half Karkat was just ready to tear him to pieces, his worry had instantly turned into pure anger and all Dave offered was a shitty ‘I’m so sorry, something came up.’.

Karkat decided he’d just explain how fucking worried he was, for that time and made Dave promise it’d never happen again.

 

Honestly, not even that was that bad. He could handle it, it was just a new type of infuriating Dave had decided to try. Fine. Fuck it, it happened every once and again that work got harder and he had to focus a lot more on some new client or investment.

Dave did work in finance, after all. Karkat could deal.

 

The thing that really made him lose his temper were the changes in the small things, the details he’d started to take for granted.

 

For example Dave had started acting as if he were always in his head, even when he was with Karkat, even as he tried to do something nice for his boyfriend. Karkat had gotten used to Dave looking at him as if everything else around them had vanished the second he opened his mouth. He’d gotten used to Dave interrupting every time he got a chance to make an awful joke or say something sexual just because he could. He’d gotten used to his fiance laughing ‘till he was in tears when Karkat told some of his best anecdotes.    
  


He’d had to snap his fingers in front of his face to get him to focus on Karkat again. More than once.

  
  
  


***

 

“Alright, that was Beyonce’s Why Don’t You Love Me and it will be our last song for today, here on Rose Buddies. For one more episode we are just one step away from being done for the day, so let’s wrap this up with the last listener call, and remember everyone, this one’s completely free of theme. You don’t wanna talk about your first love? You can do that cause this is the free call. Aaand we have it! Hello, caller, you are on Rose Buddies a romantic advice show, say hi, tell us your name and ask away just remember: Make it count!”

That day it had been real fucking hard to get in the mood for the overly energetic and too talkative radio host role.    
  


Karkat’s head hurt like hell and he was too tired for even coffee to fix it. Hell, that day he didn’t even like the taste of coffee, he ended up forgetting it until it got cold and disgusting. He did try to take a few sips despite that to wake up, but it just made him feel sicker. He just wanted it to be over and get home.

 

Maybe Dave would be on time for once, maybe not. Maybe he would go back to normal, wrap Karkat up in a hug and pepper him with kisses until Karkat whined and got annoyed and Dave could start to make him feel better, Or maybe he wouldn’t even notice and Karkat was just gonna curl up in bed and sleep. Or at least try.

The whole day’s issue had come from not being able to sleep at night so as far as he could tell he could fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, but he could feel wide awake just as well. It was a gamble really. 

 

“Hello, I’m uhh, Amy?” The girl spoke with a spanish accent just a bit too thick, just a bit too much like they do in the movies when they get a white actor to play a latina character. Why did Hollywood even do that? 

  
“That’s not your real name, huh?”   
“No, not really.” Fuck. That usually meant that it was not going to be an easy thing and it would require his actual attention.

 

“Well, tell me ‘Amy’ what did you need help with?”

“What do you do when your husband is cheating on you?”

For probably the first time in Karkat’s career there was a pause, a moment of silence before he could respond. That was the million dollar question. How was he supposed to answer when he was he first one to ask himself that?

Wait.

 

His thumb stilled on his ring- when had he started toying with it again?- his hand raised from the table slightly with an open palm. When had he thought that? Why would he?

 

“How do you know?” The reappearance of his own voice surprised him too.

“Well… at first I had a  sensación . And some friends say that if you think your man is cheating then he is, but I didn’t wanna creerlo! But I just.. noticed some things change out of nowhere? Like he stopped paying attention to me, picking fights every time he could and I couldn’t watch his telefono anymore? I didn’t want to believe it. Get this, at first I thought he might be Red Dasher, that’s how much I wanted el not to be a cheater. Ay carajo, I told myself so many lies… Pero jo couldn’t keep lying when I saw him in bed with the ‘new chica at work’ that he had talked so much of before.”

 

He didn’t really know how that show ended. As ‘Amy’ talked his head was filled with a buzzing sound. White static overwhelming and covering every sensation. His chest started aching and he couldn’t understand why. Why did he feel as if those words were just- right? It made no sense, him and Dave were in a loving relationship. Why had he had that thought in response to her question?

 

He remembered seeing his hands shake as he put the papers with his notes back in order, even if they were useless now that the episode was over. He did not remember how he closed the episode, if he even as much as thought of a response or just gave her some idealistic speech. The buzzing in his head got strong enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, just feel the way his head spinned, the way he always felt as if he were moving forwards, pushed by the too heavy weight in his eyes in the form of tears.

Why was he reacting like that?

 

He wasn't feeling like going back home all of a sudden. No, instead he took a detour, stopping to kill time at a nearby by park, sitting on a bench as his world spinner. And then, of course, there were hands over his eyes. 

He didn't even have the energy to freak out, just calmly asked: “Who’s there?” like the token white character in a horror movie. 

 

“Dave Strider.” Karkat huffed as Red Dasher let his hands drop and went to sit on the bench’s back. 

 

“You could've at least tried to change your voice. Dave can't go that low. Is something going on? “

“No, you just looked sad, something off Karkat?”

“What now, you also save people from their emotions? Don't tell me you're secretly a therapist.”

“Only for you, doll.” Fantastic, so the asshole that went around in a mask saving the city all day took more notice of him than Dave. Awesome. 

 

He kind of shoved Karkat by hitting his shoulder with a leg, but didn't take his leg back afterwards, keeping contact. 

“What's goin’on, ‘avin’second thoughts on thuh weddin’? Do I still ‘ave a chance with ya?”

He really didn't have the mental capacity to parse through his ridiculously thick accent and answer in his usual fashion too. 

 

“You know, if I’d met you before Dave I would’ve probably had a crush on you.”

 

He did not miss the way time seemed to fuck up, it was a bit hard to miss:

A guy walking by stumbled on his own feet, jumping a little and giving the road a dirty look, he was almost in front of them, Karkat could see him just to the side of his eye. And then the guy went back, turning away from the street, regaining his choked step and tripping before taking a few steps backwards never lifting his eyes from his screen. 

 

And then he got back to his rightful place, in a second walking, tripping and continuing. Except that he suddenly got ridiculously slow. 

He almost felt like laughing, sometimes at stuff like this he actually thought Red might like him. He told the Hero that. 

 

“I do! I’ve been tryn’t’make ya understand for three years now!”   
“I… Thought you flirted with everyone?” Red shook his head no, making a humming noise that also sounded quite amused. This was starting to quickly spiral into ridiculous, but Karkat could feel his lips’ corners turn upward, so maybe that’s what he needed. To be able to bear not finding Dave home when he got back. 

 

When had it started to feel like a sure thing?

“Well, fuck. Wouldn’t we be a fine couple, with me not knowing shit about you and all of this dickmongering situation.”

Red seems to consider it for a moment, glances at Karkat’s utterly confused expression and tells him something about wanting to tell him something nobody else knows.. And then he fucking lifts a leg and takes off a shoe, and two of those shoe pads are suddenly in his hand.

 

“With these I’m like three or four inches taller.”

“You’re wearing… heels?”

“Yeah, straight from cowboy to kinky boots, whatcha think’bout that?”

“How is that supposed to change anything for me? You’re still taller than me, it’s just that you’re in the upper average now.”

“So It’s your word, not mine, that you’re a midget- Fuck!” 

 

As soon as Red called him a midget Karkat hit his side. He did manage a good blow with the back of his hand, but he didn’t think it was strong enough to make a Hero hiss and flinch away in pain. 

“It's alright, I'm just- this one asshole hit me with a crowbar so it hurts a bit. I’m a walking bruise.” To prove his point he lifted his shirt and there were indeed, a number of oblong bruises on his side, painting his skin in purples,  sickly yellows and painful greens. 

 

“You can't stop time because?”

Red threw down his shirt and sighed as if that question were the most exhausting thing about the situation. 

 

“This new asshole’s immune to my powers so I’d put folks in danger.”

With that being said he lifted his sleeve and- why was the hero of time wearing a watch,  a digital one too? He stuffed his padding back in his shoe and jumped off the bench. 

“I gots to go now,  duty calls. Cheer up,  ok doll?”

 

Karkat had no time to answer,  Red just darted away, as if he had super speed,  gone in less than a blink’s time. 

  
  


He really had needed it.  He didn't know why it helped but the dread he felt at the thought of going home was gone.  Or so he thought. 

 

He opened the door and Dave popped his head out from the kitchen’s door as soon as he heard the click of the door closing, and there he was, his Dave,  smiling and walking closer to greet him with a kiss and noticing the tears in Karkat’s eyes. 

Could he be blamed?  It was just annihilating to feel all the worry and anxiety wash over him and the relief right after.  

 

He was crying like a kid but it was just fine,  he wasn't having trouble breathing save for a few hiccups every now and again,  there was no flare to his crying but still, Dave was there for him. 

 

Karkat had never hated himself more. They were sitting on the couch, rocking gently as Dave whispered sweet nothings into his ear and Karkat got his breathing back in control, only the sound of the clock on the wall was steady.   
Karkat hated himself for doubting Dave, he hated himself for hurting because of him. Karkat hated himself even more for finding comfort between his arms despite that.

  
  
  


“I’ll go take a quick shower, maybe then we can order a pizza. Maybe cuddle with a  movie on, or talk it out?” Karkat pulled away from him as Dave carefully disentangled himself  and he nodded a yes, pulling his back against the armrest.

It was going to be alright,  he had stopped crying long before Dave asked to leave.  he was being paranoid and unfair, Dave didn't deserve to deal with this shit. 

 

He was calming down. 

 

And of course that’s when the phone started ringing. 

Dave’s phone was ringing right on the table in front of him, and Karkat was used to things like these, He’d answered Dave’s phone countless times, it was fine. So why was he hesitating so much? 

He grabbed the phone and- he didn’t recognize that name: ‘TEREZI’.

 

They spoke at almost the same time, Terezi stopping almost right away. 

“Hello?”   
“Hey, D-” It was a girl’s voice. Young and energetic and rough and new.

Karkat had never heard her or heard of her. His eyebrows furrowed. “.. Who’s this?”

 

“I could- I’m Karkat, Dave’s fiance. Who are you?”

“His fiance, huh? I see.” She chuckled as Kakat’s heart sank to the bottom of him, he was almost afraid it would fall off his body as he clutched the phone with both hands. “I’m Terezi, tell Dave I called as soon as you can. Is that alright, Karkat,  the fiance?”

 

Before he could even answer she hung up.

Karkat blinked.

 

He was stuck like that for a good while, only managing to drop his hands on his lap by the time Dave stepped out of the shower. Everything felt wrong, like everything, even his own awareness, was just half a step to the right and nothing made sense. 

 

When Dave walked closer he offered his phone, the motion and words coming on their own simply because she’d ordered it. 

 

“Terezi called.”

Dave’s face instantly shifted, going into pale stiffness and he practically ripped the phone out of Karkat’s hands, quickly turning the younger one his back and starting to walk away. He called her back on his way to the bedroom.

 

Karkat only heard ‘I told you not to call me on this phone’ Before the door slammed. 

 

It felt like a blow right on his sternum and stole all his breath away, leaving Karkat sitting in what was now a stranger’s house and feeling nihilated in his pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I aware that this is like twice the size of a normal chapter? yes. Should I have shortened it? probably. 
> 
> But I wanted this to feel young and painful and annoying and i hope i achived it. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it and I hope you'll wanna read more and if you would want to leave a tiny little comment it would mean a LOT to mw and hey
> 
>  
> 
> thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by:
> 
> Burn and First Burn, from the musical Hamilton! In collaboration with the muscle memory of crying and That Spoiled Prince, aka my dear beloved sweet prince who provided the lines that Karkat says because I didn't know how to get there.
> 
> See yall at the end of the chapter cuz i gots shit to say!

Karkat didn't really know what to do with himself, or how to handle the situation.

He wanted to ask why, who, hell, he wanted all the five Ws answered.

 

He wanted to cry and scream and say it wasn't fair. But in the end he should’ve known it was coming. Honestly Dave deserved better and he could see that for himself, it was the most reasonable choice, it just- hurt so much. 

 

He wanted to dramatically throw Dave's stuff out of the window or suddenly leave, but he also wanted Dave to hold him tight enough to bruise, to take away his breath as he cried into him. 

 

So he went through some more time in a haze. Completing his daily tasks, closing his eyes at all the little things that made him ask questions before. 

 

He was stuck in a limbo between all their usual actions that once made Karkat feel like him and Dave belonged together, moments of joy made bittersweet, and empty silences of just pain. 

He didn't know how to handle any of this. 

 

He wasn't even ready to admit it. When he’d talked to Kanaya he just offered her all the pieces of the puzzle practically begging her not to call it by it’s name. 

But Kanaya was no virgin Mary and she did not listen to prayer or grant miracles. She did not speak the word out loud, too cutting to even form against delicate lips, but her eyes spoke novels. 

 

She was so sorry for Karkat and so desperately pissed, the wrath of Hera had nothing on this buff indian woman. 

But she was loyal like no one else could now claim, and she knew to only come in after Karkat was done. 

 

The issue was that Karkat didn't seem capable of starting, let alone finish. As long as every plot hole had a hint of deniability he could hold onto that. 

The happiest he’d ever been had ended, and how could anyone ask him  to stop holding onto what reminded him of it? 

 

Well, apparently, Dave could do that too. 

The asshole just had to get in a situation where he couldn't be justified. 

 

He left to go over to John’s place for one of their movie nights. Every now and again Karkat joined them, but he recognized that they sometimes needed to be apart: it would be dreadfully lonely to be so close to your loved one that you become one. 

 

No, they could have their moments alone, besides, Karkat had to work, prepare a few episodes in advance. 

Dave left like he always did, pulling Karkat close and kissing the corner of his lips before slipping away. He smiled like a kid going on his first play date and shutting the door after blowing another kiss Karkat's way. He was so ridiculous. 

 

The sun had already set, or so Karkat guessed. It hadn't shown itself all day long, hidden behind dark clouds and gloomy weather. He'd spent his time on the couch, with his Mac on his lap, going through endless e-mails, as the light outside faded out. 

There was a streetlight just to the left of the window, its yellow light came into the house splitting the room in two distinct sides, light and shadow clashing ruthlessly. 

 

It would turn off every now and again, Karkat never figured out if it was set up like that to save electricity, or the lamp was supposed to turn off when it heat up too much, but he guessed it didn't really matter since he was working with a glowing screen. 

Except it did matter when his phone started ringing when the light was off and the phone was charging on the other side of the room. 

 

He shut the computer closed and threw it aside, only later realizing how bad a choice it was. To give a precise measure of time: he was fully aware of how bad a choice it was when his leg hit the coffee table’s corner and he found himself swearing like a grumpy old italian. 

 

The phone was already at 86% so he unplugged it, checking the caller ID. 

 

“John?”

The streetlight outside turned on again, good, so this time he wouldn't get himself a new bruise as he walked back to the couch. 

“What do you want?”

 

This was weird. The only times  they called him during movie night it was because they had dumb arguments over how shitty each other's taste was and honestly, Karkat didn't feel like settling shit right then.

 

“Hey Karkat. I wanted to know if Dave’s feeling any better?”

“Dave?” He let himself sit down on the couch, but the fall seemed to keep happening, he felt as if the ground had opened up and the void was swallowing him whole. He knew perfectly where this was going. 

 

“I mean, I know movie night is out so don't start screaming about that, but since he said he's got a fever… “

“Oh, yes. Dave… He’s- I’ll let you know as soon as something comes up.” He didn't wait to hear what John had to say next. 

 

He just hung up and put the phone aside. 

He was petrified.

 

Everything he’d felt up to that point, everything that had managed to turn into a background noise for him came back again. 

He was overwhelmed with shame, with the thought that he wasn't enough and Dave finally realized that. He figured out that he deserved better and he knew, he knew all that but God, why did it have to happen? 

 

He was disgusting, awfully selfish, but couldn't Dave keep on settling for him? 

 

Couldn't he at least tell him when he moved on? 

 

Couldn't he fucking put in a bit of effort to not let Karkat know? 

Fuck, did he think he was that naive and dumb? 

 

He could feel his face contorting as ugly crying built up, his chest growing heavy and escaping his control. His face felt on fire. 

  
  


The streetlight turned on and off and on and off and on and off and the cycle seemed endless but he did not register it, he did not mind the time passing, the rain starting up or the thunder exploding. 

The only thing that he noticed was how he would keep going back to touching the ring, feeling the thin rim warm up. 

 

Each time it felt like melting metal when he noticed and each time he wanted to take it off. He would spin it around his finger and before a full cycle could be over his thoughts stole him away again.

 

The streetlight turned off. He counted one. two. three heartbeats. Four, five- a key slit into the front door’s lock and Dave walked in. 

 

“Where were you?” Dave gasped- Right, Karkat was supposed to be asleep. He guessed that was not the night for following script though. And still, Davel attempted to, by closing the door and keeping a hand on it as he whispered. 

 

“Hey. I was at John’s, it’s movie night, remember?”

 

That absolute bastard. 

 

Karkat jumped to his feet, anger taking over and pushing everything else aside, somewhere to be picked up again later, but for the moment he needed to figure out why wasn't he even deserving of the truth. 

 

“He called to ask about you. WHERE WERE YOU?”

 

He didn't mean to raise his voice,  he didn't know it could come out so steady when his heart shook.  

“Karkat-”

“Don't.” He was trying to take a step forward and the word came out so quickly,  so angry. 

Dave couldn't take another step in his direction, he couldn't be trusted around him. He didn’t know what he could do,  but it would be wrong in some way. 

 

“I’m so sorry. I Should’ve told you before, I know.”

 

A bitter laugh escaped his body and finally the tears started rolling down his cheeks. “Yeah.” And with that, all the fire and fury left him. He felt as if all of his organs had moved inside his head, making it heavy and leaving the body empty and not his own.

“That would have spared us both all of..” He moved his hand in what was supposed to be a small vague gesture, but turned out to be much more a jagged and wide movement. “All of this.”   
His throat hurt, it felt as if an invisible hand were pressing onto his Adam’s apple; a chilling feeling that somehow translated to pain.

“You could just have told me that you grew tired, or that you didn’t want this anymore. I’m not stupid, it surprises me too, but I’m not actually stupid. And I’m not blind.”

 

His voice shook, just a bit, coming out choked, but he had to go on, he only managed to glare moldy at Dave when he started this, and thankfully that was enough for him to understand he shouldn’t even dare interrupt him.

“I’ve known what you’re doing for pretty long time now, and you know what? You suck at this.”    
He shook his head lightly through the darkness.

 

“You suck so bad I tried to convince myself I was being dumb and paranoid, because Dave Fucking Strider, the man I knew and loved, he would never cheat, right?”

 

“What-”

 

“-Of course he wouldn’t, but then-” He had to quickly catch his breath, he could feel his tears roll down his face, not waiting for one another before a new one rolled down, down to his neck and he felt as if they would never stop, the water would never finish, but he wasn’t going to choke on his tongue, not now- “But then I thought I could give other people relationship advice and here I am now! with a cheating fiance who couldn’t even fucking take the time to lie properly but, oh, he’s got the nerve to say that he should’ve told me before. When he still had somewhere to turn to.”    
He hadn’t been able to control his breathing during any of that. His face grew hot during it, he was about to hyperventilate, and the fact that his mind offered Dave’s voice to remind him to breathe was not helping at all.

 

“What do I do now, Dave?”

 

Even in the darkness he could see Dave shake his head.   
“I would nev- no. You got it all wrong-”

“Are you really going to insist on this? Now? Isn’t this enough already?”

“I would never hurt you like that.”

“Flash news, asshole: You already did!”   
“Karkat, please-”   
“Don’t fucking touch me!”

 

Dave had tried to take another step towards him, a hand raised to go to Karkat’s arm as he so often did to calm him down. But not this time, he knew he would just crawl out of his skin if Dave ever touched him again. 

 

“Please, Karkat, please. I can explain just-”

“Are you really going for that cliche right now?” He laughed again, nothing short of fraught this time. But Dave’s hand was just so slightly extended towards him, palm up. His voice was in so much more pain than he had any right to be, if even for the words that he uttered:

 

“If you have ever loved me. I beg you, just give me a chance, a second-”

“You can’t say that, not now. You have no right to-”

“I know.”

  
  
  
  


The room was filled with the sound of Karkat’s breathing.

  
  
  


He was so painfully close to just breaking down for good.

  
  


How had he not broken down yet? His face must have been a wet mess, but he was still standing, how?   
If he had ever loved him. How could Dave be the one questioning it, with what nerve… there was no way to save this, why couldn’t he just let it die now that he’d wounded it so bad? Why did Dave have to twist the knife in?

 

He brought his fingertips to Dave’s hand. 

Warm and sweaty.

 

As soon as there was contact Dave went to take more, he quickly took a hold of Karkat’s fingers, like a lifeline. Karkat didn’t even have it in him to pull away, his hand was limp in Dave’s hold. It felt as if he were collecting himself, finding his words while begging Karkat wouldn’t take away his only way back.

 

He couldn’t stand it, this was torture, feeling how Dave breathed a little but still kept being just as nervous. It was torture knowing that this had to be it. He could never have the love and tenderness his fiance meant back.

 

Dave tried to rub small circles in his hand, but the hold wasn’t good enough. He repositioned, holding onto Karkat a bit higher up, rubbing his thumb idly on the skin just above his knuckles.

 

“Why are you doing this to me?” Did he have nothing to say? Was he just buying time? Why would he do that? Did he still love him? Why did he have to go and cheat, God, why was he doing this.   
He breathed in with a wet sound, falling to pieces. “Just say what you have to, stop doing this.”   
  
Light came in through the window, Dave’s hold was just a little bit tighter for a moment. Karkat could see how his lower lip trembled, red and humid.   
He raised his eyes to meet karkat’s, the light made him look almost scarily pale, the shadows almost appearing like complete void, holes in Karkat’s vision.   
  


He could see perfectly how his muscles moved, the void dancing on his face, as he clenched his jaw and as he swallowed.

 

“Why are you doing this?” he could only snivel by now.

 

But Dave did not speak, his mouth opened, but Dave did not speak, not a sound escaped his lips. He looked away, to the window, moved his hand, in what could as well have been an involuntary twitch.

 

Karkat followed his glance, out the window-

He blinked a few times, to clean his view. That must have been wrong.

He moved, walking closer to it, Dave followed but Karkat’s attention was quickly moving away from him, his eyes darted unbelieving to what was in front of him.

 

The street lamp was turned off, that wasn’t where the light came from.

Down, in the street the few cars did not move, their lights acted as spotlights, highlighting the drops of rain as diamonds hanging from a chandelier.

Unmoving.

 

Karkat’s eyes kept rising up, to the point where he met his reflection’s eyes, just as wet as his own with water drops that would not roll down the gass.

Further up, he saw the source of light for this set: Lightning was stuck in the sky, its vines expanding like veins. A crack in the sky, huge and bright, ridiculously close, illuminating the clouds around with ominous shadows and bouncing off building windows. 

 

His hand slowly raised to his mouth, as the realization sunk in, as the light spread out. Just like that, the light was gone again, the car tires splashed water and the streetlight turned on just as thunder came crashing down.   
So violent and irreverent it shook the glass Karkat was standing in front of, water rushing down and being quickly substituted by new drops. 

 

He felt the vibrations to his core.

When he turned Dave wasn’t just behind him anymore: He was sitting on the floor, back against the couch’s own.

 

His hair was a mess now, his eyes were puffy, he had tear tracks down his cheeks and he was so red. His cheeks were red with the heat of crying, of not breathing right, just like his eyes. He must have rubbed at his eyes and nose, he was just- just as broken as Karkat.

 

Neither of them was crying anymore.

Dave looked utterly exhausted, his voice just confirmed it, even as he spoke with a tone he was not supposed to be able to reach, and with a twang everyone who knew him had teased him for not having.

  
“You’re Red Dasher.”   
“Hello, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting this a day early cause I literally can't wait to put it out, see how people react.  
> It's the very first time I let my characters feel bad and I really am curious to know if I managed to have any impact at all?  
> Honestly between the lines, desperately trying to remember how I feel physically when crying my heart out to make Karkat feel that and the music I really was on te verge of tears while writing, but idk if that can be true for normal people readin'.
> 
> Honestly at this point I just hope people dont read this and think its too much lol!  
> Also, next chapter I'll have to add a bunch of tags because I realized it might be upseting for some peoople. I will add some visual indicators in the text so that if people just wanna skip those parts they can cause it's not like necessary for the plot and i dont want that to be a limit for people. I'm sorry i didnt tell yall before but it kind of came up later on.
> 
> Anyways thank you so much for getting this far, it wasn't so bad now was it?
> 
> And if you would be so kind as to leave a tiny little comment it would mean a LOT to me and hey,
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: The first part of this chapter has light mentions od mextremely minor character deaths, child neglect and abuse. I have marked by - - - a part which explains, in what I think is a pretty matter of fact way, actually, many injuries that a characyer gets, so you might want to skip past that lart. The ending is narked by more - - -   
> I believe that's about it? If there is anything else you believe should be tagged or pointed out do let me know, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. 
> 
> so i fucked up with calculating when i would finish my finals, getting it wrong by just onw day! I did want to be done with this story at the same time I would officially be done with high-school. While this chapter was done by the time I finished I was so stressed out I forgot to post it, at the end I decided to post the ending of this storyas ai got done for good with school for real.
> 
> Your knight passed with 74/100 points yall and I had a mental break down just before beginning the last test, im honestly impressed that i managed to get through it despite that.

His name

  


His name was Dave Strider. It may not have been the name given to him at birth, but it was him. And sure, if Karkat wanted to know the other one, Dave would tell him, no more secrets. He never liked them anyway.

 

But the person that answered to that name was not the man in front of Karkat, not the man sitting with his fingers interlaced, nervously rubbing his index with a thumb, as he tried to make the man he loved get to know him again.

 

The person that answered to that name was a scared kid that did not reach eighteen years of age. He was the second of three brothers and only had two certainties in life:

One: His older brother was absolutely terrifying, especially because he did not like his siblings but was stuck with having to give them food and shelter.

Two: He could not let his younger brother get hurt. Especially not from their oldest.

 

“I thought you only had one brother, Dirk.”

“Yeah. Not biologically.”

 

See, the thing is that their parents had died soon after the birth of their youngest: a freaky car accident, almost as if someone had sabotaged their car with hands particularly skilled when it came to jobs of precision.

Fortunately their eldest son, the one that liked to make little machines and sew puppets, he was over eighteen already. And sure, he may have seemed a bit creepy, but who cared? It was better and easier than putting two children up for adoption or into foster care.

 

How lucky they were, they got to stay together, keep on being a family even after tragedy. Talk about a silver lining.

 

Except that food was starting to be harder to get to, and bruises became an occasional occurrence first and a mandatory accessory on the middle's skin later, and by the time he was nine his home only made ice run in his veins and he had a three year old to raise and protect.

Fuck the silver lining.

 

So this kid knew that his big brother was actually the monster hiding under his bed, and he had to make sure it wouldn't get to his baby brother.

 

He could deal with it. Just a few years.

Honestly, thinking back to it, it was almost funny how already  time didn’t know what the fuck to do around him: while every second seemed like it was lasting ages, the days looped in on themselves. He actually had to remind himself that it was an eleven year gap between the ages of six and seventeen. To him it was just a confused blur of tension, hunger, food piled in a closet, pain, so much pain he could barely see. Homeschooling, training, learning to give himself stitches and how to cook for a toddler. Silence, tucking his brother into bed, learning to sleep with his eyes open and reflexes ready, learning how to tell a bedtime story, learning how to hold a sword.

 

And then, at some point he figured out that he could do something to time.

Nothing too useful: he could stretch three seconds into nine, just the necessary to not die when his older brother tried to… train him. It did come in handy when he was seventeen though.

 

For eleven years he’d managed to keep his baby brother safe enough. He did get a few slaps or shoves, but for the most part he was safe. For starters, he didn’t have calloused hands from holding a sword.

 

When it happened though, for a second, the middle child had hoped his brother knew how to defend himself. Luckily the second lasted so fucking long.

 

His brother was training him, like he had started doing on a daily basis by then, but he must’ve been particularly pissed that one day.

A twelve year old saw his brother with a sword to his throat and cuts already too deep to keep on fighting, and decided to go against the big bad monster, because he could help. He could save the day.

 

That’s what the heroes always did in the stories his brother told him.

 

The monster kicked him away, but the kid got back up, yelling with his tiny voice and demanding he leave his brother alone. So the monster made his way to the kid, an anger in his eyes that the brother had never seen before, not even in the worst days.

The monster raised his sword, the kid stared with furrowed eyebrows and frowny lips, the brother forgot his pain and ran, ran as fast as he could as the sword seemingly stopped in the air.

 

The feeling of time stopping was weird. It was less like the Tick-Tock of a clock failing to go Tock, and more like standing in a river and suddenly deciding that you are going to be the dam holding the water back. It was physically exhausting, like running three marathons back to back but without the ache of the burning muscles, like sleep deprivation, like intoxication but without the loss of lucidity and it was all coming from his chest.

 

He ran to get his baby brother and grabbed his hand when he figured he was in too bad a shape to lift him in his arms. They ran down the stairs, stopped for the middle one to take all the money the monster had in his wallet and in the cabinet in his room. He had never even thought of doing this, he was certain he could hold on one year more, then get away, find a way to get custody of his baby brother. But that wasn’t an option when the kid could’ve gotten seriously hurt.

So the two brothers ran, and the middle one would slow time every time that he could and for as long as he could.

 

They were out of the city before the monster’s sword got all the way down and across state lines before he even thought of looking out of the apartment for his boys.

 

When they were at a distance that could maybe be called safe and into a relatively closed space the middle child collapsed, the physical strain of his powers tangible and real. He passed out on the ground, stayed out cold for a grand total of thirty hours.

 

As far as he was concerned, that was when Dave Strider was conceived.

 

The middle child became the older of two brothers and they started trying to figure out how to get back into society and how to survive it without letting a monster sniff them out.

There were never missing child reports. He never looked for them through the means of the law. But he was pissed about losing his belongings, of that the older was sure.

 

What followed that impulsive choice was sleeping in alleys and abandoned homes, trying to keep on teaching his brother in order to get him into an actual school someday, stealing when needed to survive, and abusing his powers.

He was more careful with them now. Only using them if seriously needed and to train himself. It was tiresome and painful at times, but it was also so much easier to steal food and water from supermarkets when everyone was a few seconds behind him.

  


What the brothers didn’t know was that powers were more common than they’d thought. So common in fact, that there was an actual Government run organization that took care of these matters.

  
The _Virtus Hendrerit._

 

What the older brother did not know was that he had caught the VH’s eye. They didn’t care for his small burrows: Why would they care about missing food and books  from stores when they had larger issues to worry about? They were not the police, they couldn’t afford to make poor people’s lives even harder.

What they paid attention to was the fact that the little figure running around in stores did so at a speed that should not have been possible to reach by a human.

 

What the brother noticed was a guy running at normal speed even as he was supposed to go in triple slow motion. He managed to get away from him the first time, he grabbed a street pole and made a sharp U turn, The Runner lost his footing and gave the brother a few seconds more to run. He managed to duck in an ally and lose The Runner.

 

The second time he didn’t have as much luck: he couldn’t hold his powers in place for long enough.

 

\---

The runner crashed right into him, and it was like what he imagined being hit by a train was like. Before he even knew it he was shot forwards and onto the ground. For just a moment a sharp pain shot through every atom of his being, then, the pain was so much he didn’t even register it anymore. His right leg was broken in two pieces, shreds of bone poked out of the skin, but at least they didn’t let the blood out, his left knee was so scraped he was sure he could see the bone where the skin was supposed to cover it.

It had popped out of his hip too, but honestly, he thought that was better than the other side of his hip, which was shattered.

Almost every single one of his vertebrae was chipped.

 

“Do you want me to stop? You’re going pale.”

“I’m getting nauseous.”

“Let’s just say I was fucked up-”

“No. I want to know everything.”

 

Over half of his ribs was broken. Of those, one third was poking out of his chest and one third had stabbed his lungs. He was quickly choking on his own fluids with a free mouth, the rattling sound that he made still echoed in his mind at times. His right arm had popped out of every single juncture, even the fingers had jumped out of the knuckles, the bone going over them as his hand looked like it’d gone through a blender twice and then been chewed on by a furious caucasian shepherd dog. Every single one of his nerves had moved out of place due to the impact and he didn’t even know such an injury could be possible. Served to teach him not to try and break his fall with a hand next time.

 

“Is that why you can’t quite close your hand?”

“Yeah. It just won’t go over this point. I don’t even feel the fingers.”

“But it doesn’t make sense. You should be completely paralyzed with all this shit, and the only consequence of that is not getting to close your hand?”

“We live in a world where time travel is real.”

 

He couldn’t even remember how many internal wounds he had that weren’t caused by his bones stabbing delicate things. He was just torn to pieces.

The Runner averaged 800 miles per hour. He was going at full speed when he chased this kid down, whom he thought could run too. His goal was to make sure he wouldn’t get away from him again. He didn’t expect the kid to suddenly drop to around 20 miles per hour without any warning, as if he hadn’t been running at all.

 

The Runner was a really nice guy, The archetype of what people thought of when they talked about someone with a big heart, he never wanted to hurt anyone, let alone a kid. When they crashed he instinctively rolled away to minimize damage, and his armour and padding helped, but he did quite a lot of bruises too. When he stood up to a rattling, bleeding kid torn to pieces he was so much more than mortified.

He didn’t even know he was chasing down a seventeen year old, he was on the verge of having a mental breakdown due to the guilt until the rattling became loud enough  for him to hear. The kid seemed unable to move in any measure, but he was alive at least.

\----

He probably risked killing him when he picked him up, but the kid would’ve definitely died if he hadn’t gotten to the hospital right away.

He was in the operating room for a ridiculous amount of time, the doctors didn’t even know where to start operating, what to put back in place first in order to try and have him not die.

 

When they were pretty much done they kept him in an induced coma for five days, to give him time to recover, time to rest, time to not feel the worst of the pain.

In the meantime his little brother had managed to find him and stay by his side, shooting daggers at The Runner over the bed until his brother woke up.

 

His first memory when thinking of it was pain. So much pain. Getting hit wasn’t nearly as painful. Even the light shot pain like needles through his skull, so the first thing he did when he woke up was try to get right back to sleep.

 

Of course he couldn’t even be allowed the small joys in life, partially because he had a twelve-year-old that had spent a week in a hospital bedroom waiting for him to say that they could leave. Partially because he had a thirty-year-old that had spent approximately a week in a hospital bedroom waiting for him to wake up to give him an offer.

 

The Runner assured him that all medical expenses would be on him, to make up for having so utterly wrecked him. He also said that he was not going to call their legal guardian, explaining that the little one had begged him not to.

In retrospect Dave thought that the VH had simply decided it would be easier to deal with the situation if they only had two kids to control.

 

The kid was young, and he had a power that could be refined and used for good. He must have been a good kid, because they’d kept an eye on him, they knew he only did the necessary bad things to survive.

 

They asked him to work for them.

 

His little brother instantly started saying no. These were the assholes that had sent him to the hospital in worse conditions than their brother had ever even attempted. He didn’t want him to work for them.

In the end he accepted. He’d talked with The Runner for long enough, not having anything better to do while bandaged up and all but tied to the hospital bed. But there were conditions:

 

One: They had to put his older brother in prison for as long as possible. They could lock the door and throw away the key, if they wanted, he just didn’t want to think about that asshole anymore.

Two: They had to pay for his baby brother to get through college.

 

This decision came two weeks of non stop talking after he woke up. By then The Runner knew all about him, and the kid knew that despite the VH being government run, it didn’t get many funds. If they decided to pay for someone’s college someone he was going to be left with bare minimum necessities himself.

 

He didn’t care and by then The Runner and most of his colleagues in the VH wanted to make the asshole that had hurt ‘such sweet children’ pay.

 

Once the deal was made a new doctor introduced herself. She walked in the room with an envelope and two sets of young eyes on her, a blue glow to her hands.

She walked out of a room with a crying and a fainted kid in it, with her hands empty.

 

The older one woke up at around 3am. He got his brother to open the envelope up revealing two birth certificates, along with some more documents.

 

That night the Strider brothers were born

 

From then the deal came into fruition fast enough. Actually, faster than he’d anticipated when he decided to accept. So much faster.

Dave found out that the doctor had fixed his wounds, making everyone save time, but he still needed to do post-surgery rehabilitation, since what she’d done was basically just speeding up and guiding the cells that were pulling him together.

 

Someone had also decided that while he did physiotherapy, he and his brother might as well attend some regular therapy sessions. That someone was probably The Runner.

 

The VH found out that they didn’t have to start from scratch with Dirk’s education, actually, Dave had been teaching him a few years up without knowing it.

 

It took Dave one year, thanks to the VH’s help, to get back mobility and control of his body.

They focused on the important things, like not giving him breathing problems and making sure he could walk and run, since they were thinking of throwing him in the field due to how his powers worked. Everything else he had to take care of by himself. Honestly, he was lucky that the only trace of all that was a bad hand.

 

In that year he learned more about what they expected of him, he learned more about how the VH worked, and he put on enough weight for his bones not to be visible anymore under his skin. That was a first in ten years.

 

As Dave got through this Dirk got through exams needed to attest his preparation. By the time he was thirteen Dirk had finished high school as a homeschooled kid, making Dave a proud mama. He’d joked endlessly about being the next best pageant mom about to parade her child around to vicariously live through their experience, but he felt as if this had all happened too quick.

 

He had been given more information on how he would help the VH almost as soon as he’d accepted the deal: apparently the VH worked with other organizations around the world, exchanging and sending people off to whoever might’ve had similar abilities in the hopes of bettering and studying them. In Dave’s case, he would mainly be sent off to work with people whose abilities regarded time, but that wouldn’t be all of it.

This training period served to figure out how an ability could be used to help society and to what degree it could be used, so the subjects would be put up to the test in many different situations.

 

What this meant for Dave was a few years of jumping around, twenty countries in two years, to be precise. Even though, to be fair, over one year he spent in Italy, living with an archeologist in the south.

With years things changed, the trainees didn’t have to live in what was basically a hosting family anymore, but they still had a Hero of reference that had to keep an eye on them and that they could call if they needed anything. Terezi was his latest trainee.

 

Dave still remembered the day before taking off for his first trip: he was incredibly nervous and scared, but not because he was about to be sent all the way to south africa. Ok, that was a part of it. Most of his worries came from having to leave Dirk back. He knew his brother would have The Runner looking out for him, and he knew Dirk was smart and could fend for himself, but after all they’d gone through leaving him was unthinkable, it was like asking him to cut a piece of himself off.  

But he still had to, if he wanted to give either of them a chance for a future.

 

They’d spent the previous night talking non stop, making sure the other knew they’d be safe, promising that they’d Skype every night, that they would try to enjoy the experience, that they wouldn’t cause trouble, that they were going to be back together as soon as possible.

Dave walked Dirk to his first class, and waited outside  for a good fifteen minutes, unable to tear himself away quite yet.

He went to pick Dirk up after his last period.

 

Dave joked about it being an attempt to make up for not getting to do that for kindergarten and elementary, Dirk called him a helicopter mom.

Every single one of Dirk’s classmates was surprised when they saw basically a toddler walk in and start taking notes, the teachers were a bit annoying, asking him questions and acting unamused when he answered, despite that stuff being a bit hard even for him.

All in all he liked it, he did get a bit ansty at being surrounded by so many people, but he was learning more things that he enjoyed and he liked the idea of having a piece of paper that made those years feel like Official Serious Business.

 

Dave was overtaken with so many feelings he couldn’t quite name. His chest felt light and too tight all at once and felt like high fiving his baby brother and hugging him tight for the rest of his days all at once.

He only got to walk his brother to his first class the following day too. They hugged for a whole minute and then Dave kept time as slow as he could as he got to the airport.

 

Before taking off The Runner gave him his watch. The first thing Dave did, when he saw it, was try to fix the time: It was about one year ahead, but The Runner stopped him. He explained that nobody was sure if his body would age with the normal flow of time or if it would stop when Dave fucked with it. He used different words.

 

The second thing Dave did, when he saw it, was notice the small incision in the back of it: The precise moment when he’d crashed into him, according to the now broken favourite watch of The Runner’s.

Dave laughed, fist bumped the runner while sniffling and got through security at the airport, with his new passport that declared him 19 and his new watch that read 20 already on his wrist.

 

In each country he went to he would stay with his hosting hero, help as much as he could when it came to lending a hand. At first he didn’t feel at ease at all around those many strangers, but his therapist was just a skype call away at all times, and as he became more confident in his powers it became easier to settle in with the hosts.

He would’ve tried to get jobs to help out, but he almost never stayed in a place for long enough to even begin looking.

 

The Striders did talk to each other for hours every day, uninterrupted in their free time, regardless of what time zone Dave found himself in. After quite some time of this Dave asked his brother when did he find the time to study, asked him if he was taking things easy since he was ahead in his studies anyway.

Dirk simply said that he was pretty sure he would manage to graduate that year.

 

When he actually did his first request was to be reunited with his brother now that he had finished his studies, as a whole incredibly perplexed organization the VH told him that it could not be arranged for the time being. Dave had just gotten to his most stable location, so why didn’t he just… take a leap year, or go back to college, since it was pretty sure anyone would offer him a full scholarship after the year’s performance.

 

Dave’s stable location, as he’d hinted to before, was an apartment with an archeologist in southern Italy. In that time Dave had discovered a passion for clear coastlines, his own freckles, dead things, italian and korean foods, he had also figured out how to bring time to a stop, thanks to his host’s help. She had the power to fuck with time in localized areas, like highlighting an object’s timeline and being able to slide to wherever she wanted on it.

Dave thought it was as interesting as it was terrifying, but to celebrate his progress she took him to a museum and brought everything to it’s timeline’s zenit.

There was nothing quite as exciting as being in a museum with perfectly pristine statues of sami-naked people and dinosaurs running around.

 

At that point his progres stopped. They tried to figure out if he could do anything more  for a few months with no success. It was unanimously decided that it would be best to let Dave settle in, get his area to watch over and get back to his brother.

 

Dave was 21 years old when he got assigned to … City and reunited with his baby brother that somehow had two degrees at the age of 16, and Karkat knew the rest, so-

 

“No.”

“What?”  
“I said I want to know everything, and if that means that you’ll have to tell everything again, until you get to explaining yourself as you explain yourself then so be it. You said no secrets.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Dave got back in the US, when he was independent and having to choose what to do with his future, without leaving his area, he had to admit, he felt quite disoriented. But he was back with his brother, so that had to count for something.

Maybe the change in scenery, or being back with Dirk was what he’d needed in those months of stagnation in his progress:

Within a week he figured out how to go back in time.

 

Again, progress was slow and he only seemed able do go back a few seconds at a time, but he soon realized that it was so much more than enough, especially if what he needed as soon as possible was a way to make money.

 

Betting and investing became a lot easier once he knew how things would turn out.

The VH would’ve been so mad if he hadn’t directed a good half of the money he made towards them.

In the end they got mad regardless:

 

He had become a public figure, apparently managing to always invest in the right place at the right time to make your networth go from zero to over a million was more newsworthy than Dave thought.

Whoops.

 

The way they decided to cover up for it, to make it not seem like some kind of scam or illegal activity, was rolling with it. Creating an activity, managing money from people that were not Dave, losing- sometimes a lot- every now and again. The pressure became a  lot real quick.

 

He was quickly a person of notice, rising in the list of richest people because he was an idiot and had underestimated how much an investment was going to give him.

The VH used what they got to help its workers a bit more, to allow those that wanted to to just take a job with them as a front, help the community as much as possible and not have to take on a second job to survive.

 

The Runner finally had enough to buy a house with his wife.

In the meantime Dave was starting to have to go through interviews for boring magazines that he would never read and for programs that he was not qualified to give his opinion on. Looking back, he didn’t hate it as much as he did while it happened, but that was just because now he knew that through those interviews he would meet one Karkat Vantas.

 

He had absolutely no idea how he’d ended up on the radio talking about how it felt to suddenly be a famous person, but he had to admit, it was one of the most entertaining conversations he’d had in quite a while. Mainly because the host looked like he was holding onto his sanity by a hair thin string.

He accepted a number of other interviews with that station, always on different matters, requesting the host from the first time when they tried to give him someone more serious.

 

The listeners soon started to tune in for those because Karkat was sure to lose his cool by the second question.

That, combined with the extra importance that Karkat’s presence brought to the station in the eyes of someone considered important, earned him the show he’d been pushing for for quite some time now.

 

Karkat had made the announcement on air, passing the shitty show’s torch to new comer that was just deemed adequate to stop being a co-host and hold his own show, just like it’d happened to him when he was 19.

He still had a week to spend working on that show, which was a tragedy to him, but to Dave? That was just the time he needed to pull something together.

 

The idea was to make something just on the line of ironic and sincere to mark the end of the days when he would annoy the shit out of Karkat.

He would’ve never admitted it, but annoying Karkat was one of his favourite activities. When he did that he was just a normal guy, not a kid to protect or teach to, not someone important because he had a lot of money or because he could stop time and kick your ass. He was just Dave Strider, the annoying assole.

 

He showed up outside the station with two tickets to some musical Karkat seemed really into, according to his social media. He wouldn’t have defined his emotional state as nervous, sure, he wanted Karkat to say yes and give him a last chance to piss him off, but he wouldn’t have cried himself to sleep if he’d said no.

 

Ofcourse, he insisted for a bit when Karkat gave him a firm and solid no, absolutely not, never ever, you heinus footfucking asswagon.

 

Apparently never ever was no longer than the time it took Dave to add dinner and getting him back home to the offer. The result was one of Dave’s all time favourite nights out:

A run to get to the theatre in time, being freaked out by how weird the musical was, hearing Karkat’s apparently endless commentary afterwards and eating a burrito on the side of the road because the’d managed to get kicked out of Taco Bell because they were too loud. Jokes about Karkat popping Dave’s cherry since that was his first ever musical, bad reinterpretations of the most memorable songs, forgetting to take a taxi and instead walking for three hours to Karkat’s home, too distracted by each other to notice.

Before saying good night, for what Dave had started actually fearing would be the last time, Karkat demanded to have his phone and wrote in his number.

 

When he got home Dave listened to the recorded album so much that Dirk learned most of the lyrics too.

 

He would be teased non stop for having finally found the right guy to make him into a blushing anime girl, and no amount of eye rolling and fired back teasing would make his brother shut up again.

 

The two started talking and texting non stop. At times they would tell the other to hold on a moment as they did something and they’d end up going around for hours, their phones still connected, just kind of… liking the feeling of being able to just lift up the phone and get to talk to the other.

 

Actually having someone so close made things a bit harder for Dave. He had to find ways to fulfill his duty as Red Dasher without raising suspicion, and as long as the two of them avoided physical contact he could still manage, he didn’t even need to lie!

But then Walking shoulder to shoulder or with a hand over the other’s shoulder became a habit, just like laying on top of each other or sitting with one’s legs over the other’s lap.

 

Then he started sneezing and going to the bathroom a lot more, and it wasn’t the fault of shitty allergies or freaky new drinks Dave was trying, he just needed to make sure he didn’t stop Karkat in time with him.

The first few times he’d met Karkat as Red Dasher he felt pretty weird. The two had just become a little more than acquaintances, but Dave had a mask, so he could have a little less restraint and see what happened.

What happened was that Dave found out that he liked Karkat and not only in a friendly way.

 

When Karkat asked him out Dave had just come out of three restless nights and over eighteen cups of coffee to try and find a way to ask.

 

When things started getting serious was when Dave was truly overtaken with panic and grief. It was before they moved in together, before they met the remains of each other’s family, it was wen Dave finally decided to tell Karkat ‘I love you’.

On the day he’d made up his mind Karkat made it clear to Red Dasher that he could not fucking stand him. From then on Red tried his best to try and make Karkat like him, but apparently every effort ended up consolidating his asshole image.

 

As time passed worry slowly followed, at some point Dave knew that Red and Karkat were just not quite friends, he could still fix it, but Dave had grown to love his boyfriend so much more every day, every small ridiculous thing that he did made Dave fall head over heels all over again. He had to ask Karkat to marry him.

 

“I used every resource I could to make sure it’d go right. Time, money, brains…”

“Did you know I would pick that book?”

“I made a guess, but I was ready to stop time and dig any other book up in case I was wrong.”

 

He would’ve wanted to tell Karkat who he was so much sooner, like when he’d found him on the bench. Dave wanted to tell him so badly. At first he’d approached to do just that, because he couldn’t hold the secret any longer, and because he wanted Karkat to open up to him like he normally did even when he ran around in a cape, and because for a second he felt brave enough.

 

But the VH had rules and they dictated that only a Hero’s spouse and closest relatives could know the Hero’s  true identity.

 

“What? Why?”

“It’s an old rule. I guess it’s meant to make sure there’s discretion and shit…”

“What happens if you break it?”

“There are some people… Heroes, but they mainly walk with minds. They substitute the memory to keep the secret, but the method isn’t too stable, so the Hero needs to be cut out of the person’s life. It’s usually implanting the memory of a break up due to like… needing to move for work? But they have been thinking of sending me to some more ‘at risk’ areas so I think they would be a bit more drastic for us.”

  


The latest asshole that Dave had to deal with was immune to time stopping. It just didn’t phase him at all, he went on like nothing had changed. At first Dave only saw the more physical and deadly difficulties that this fact implied: Stopping time would only serve to put people at risk more and fights were a lot more dangerous.

 

So he let time keep doing it’s thing, fighting the asshole the old fashioned way and it fucking sucked. It suched being beat up alost as bad as when he was younger, it sucked having to keep his clothes on and his fiance’s hands off himself to avoid raising questions. It sucked knowing that if something went wrong he couldn’t stop time and ge to the place in time to avoid damage.

 

Over the years he had developed a system with the VH’s future seer and telepah, a keyword he was trained to respond instantly to by stopping time; coordinates, problem and the word would pop in his head an e’d appear on place to fix it. And now it was all useless because if he stopped time people could die.

 

So he had to start lying, and he fucking sucked at it, and he knew it.

He expected Karkat to start asking questions at some point, he knew he probably had plot holes here and there. He’d hoped it would be ok, he just had to capture that immune asshole, bring things back to normal, and then he was going to be married and honest as can be, as he’d always wanted to be.

 

He never thought i would be like this. He never thought that Karkat would believe him to be capable of cheating.

 

“It wasn’t just the lies.”

“I’m sorry.”

 

Like a curtain, silence fell over the room after the monologue. Eye contact was a foreign concept. Dave looked between his feet, trying to calm down, to choke back tears to the sound of his head spinning and heart reeling.

Karkat was looking to the floor too, but a bit further ahead of him, into the void, rarely expressionless.

 

The mass of words launched at him felt heavy, as if they’d all been said at the exact same time. The mass of words launched at him felt heavy, like taking a too big gulp of water and feeling the ache in your chest after forcefully swallowing down.

He felt the seconds down on him like eons.

  
  
  
  
  


“Please sa-”

“That’s a lot.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I think.”  He blinked, that was a lie to start off. His head was full of cotton, he could not do anything akin to thinking. “I need time, to process that.” To process you.

 

He did not cheat. His Dave would never do that, and this man didn’t.

 

The storm outside was dying down. The street lamp was the last thing illuminating the streets as rain was all there was left descending from the clouds. The room was lit by the lamp by the sofa; the main one would’ve been too harsh on the eyes, they must have mentally agreed at some point.

 

The final decision was that Karkat was going to do is best to keep ahold of his shit, and Dave would keep his distance, but not too much of it.

Karkat made waited in the bathroom as Dave took some sheets to sleep on the couch. Karkat was trying to understand. He was wrong, Dave did not cheat. That was a relief, it was. But he was now sitting on the bathroom floor with his back to the door and hands pressed hard against his lips to keep quiet because apparently his fiance had hidden 50% of his life from him.

 

He felt the steps behind the door as Dave got to the bedroom after a safe time had passed.

He hadn’t actually hidden that much, no. It was more like, he’d given Karkat an outline of his life, but it was drawn a few centimeters to his left. It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t false, just off, just wrong enough for Karkat to feel as if he were standing right in the line between being justified in his anger and betrayal and having to accept the situation.

 

He was going to lose his Dave forever if he didn’t find a way to deal with all that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeettttttt


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya knights posting this on the beach as i watch three years of hand taken notes burn. Schools done and sos this story next up: being ridiculously happy about FINALLY managing to finish a multi chapter fic.
> 
> Please leave comments, i depend on them to feel like i didnt shout in the void.   
> #honestyftw

Valentine’s day came and went without a word.

Literally, they didn’t speak a single word to each other the whole day. It’s not like they were just trying to ignore each other, they were trying not to do that!

 

Talking just didn’t come naturally to either of them for the first time in their lives.

 

Karkat had woken up from a restless night and out of bed without a second to ask himself why was it empty. He made his way to the kitchen to start up his coffee and met Dave’s eyes despite his best efforts not to look at the couch. 

 

He hadn't slept one bit, Karkat could tell. 

 

He started making coffee, took two cups but caught himself. 

 

He stayed with the two cups in hand for all the time it took for the water to boil and the coffee to be ready. 

 

He always took down two cups, got Dave’s cream and sugar right as he made his own. Would Dave think everything was okay again if he prepared two cups? Or would he believe everything was ruined if he only brought down his own? What if he didn't even notice? His arms were getting sore as circulation was cut out due to them being so far stretched up. 

 

Did he want Dave to think either of those things? What about how he, Karkat, felt? Which one did he want? He hadn't decided yet. 

His bed was empty, cold but oh, God. The sight of Dave had hurt. 

 

He brought down two cups, only prepared his own. He took two sips of it, his ass against the counter as he stared at the door. That was a day in which he did not like the taste of coffee. 

 

He brought down two cups, only prepared his own, neither was really used. 

 

The episode was carried by music and listener calls, none of which came from Dave. Red dasher was seen at the corner of Fremont street and the 4th between 11:40 and 12:36, witnesses said he got beat up a bit, but at the end the delinquent had to run away injured. 

 

When he got back to the house he headed right to his room, half heartedly working until his body gave into exhaustion. 

 

It was a tiresome day at the station. 

The theme of the day felt lost to him, almost worryingly so, he barely spoke, the seconds just ticked away carried by other people's voices and notes, almost worryingly so. 

 

The mic was in front of him, a sense of worry started to grow within him. He could feel his heart beat faster.   
Why?

 

He should have jumped when Dave was right in front of him. He should have been surprised when Dave was kneeling in front of him, bloody and pained. He knew it had all happened before when he woke in a cold sweat, disoriented, scared. His instinct told him to check the spot on the bed next to him, but it was empty. How could it not be? Dave was still doing as he’d asked. 

 

He needed to see him though. He would not be able to touch him, he knew that if he did he would crawl out of his skin, but he had to see him, to know that he was ok. He had to. 

 

Karkat held his breath, the room was too quiet, it was wrong. The cars did not pass in the street below, it was too late for that, but there was no clock either. There was not a small piece of electricity making a sound in any corner of his room, there was no other person’s steady breathing. 

 

When he got up the sound of his body moving off the sheets resembled a glacier breaking, his own breath thundered like a hurricane in his ears. The silence was unbearable on his eardrums. 

 

He never knew why people would put those little like dots in their walls when painting them, he was questioning it even more as he slit his hand against the wall to lead his way, those small bumps became mountains, painting an unimaginable scenery. 

He just needed to see Dave, know that he was still fine. 

 

So why didn't he just go away when he heard him talk to someone? He was fine! He could go back to bed! He was going to freeze if he stayed out of the covers any longer. 

 

He had missed that voice so much though.

It had only been one day after that shaking story, it had only been hours since when he’d stopped talking and it had been days since when it had been used to console Karkat after a nightmare.

He wasn't even doing that right then, but he had missed that voice so much. 

 

“But what if he doesn't.”

“...”

“You can't know that-”

“...” 

Karkat hated this. He hated eavesdropping, he hated knowing that he would not be seen if he only took a step backwards. He hated that this was calming him down actually. Most of all he hated the fact that he hated not being able to hear the full conversation. 

 

“You’ve been wrong before. I don't want anything more than just listen to you and agree that it will happen, but you were wrong before. You were wrong and I died and what if it happens this time too?”

“... “

“I just… Don't want to lose him, Rose.”

“... “

“I know.“

“...” 

“I know.”

What?

 

“...”

“Yes. I know. “

Dave was about to cry, he was getting choked up, like breathing was hard. Had he done that to him? 

 

“...” 

“I love him so much, I can't-”

He felt like such a piece of shit. He felt like his skin was about to jump off of his body in disgust, but he was supposed to be the one that’s right in this scenario, right? 

 

“... Okay. I’m on my way.”

Seconds later he heard the sound of the door klicking shut. He hadn't even had the time to think of getting to Dave, say they’d see each other later. He was just up and gone. 

 

Then things got foggy. 

 

Not only were Karkat’s eyes filling up with tears as his head grew heavy, but it all stopped being clear. 

 

He knew Dave was out, Red Dasher was on some sort of mission. He knew he might not return, or he would return hurt and bloody. 

Was that what his nightmares were, memories of wrong times past? 

What if he didn't return? 

 

He wasn't ready to prepare his coffee yet, but he wanted to makes things easier none the less.

What if he didn't return? 

 

He would wait for Dave to come back before going to sleep. 

What if he didn't return? 

 

He would see him in a nightmare. 

 

But dawn approached and the door stayed shut.

 

And Karkat might have slept previously but that was no rest, once the adrenaline wore off he realized that he was much more tired than he’d been before falling asleep. 

The silence was heavy like a brick curtain, why was the clock not ticking? 

 

Karkat dared take a step into the living room, looking for the object that dare be inoffensive. Dave had taken the batteries out. He was probably annoyed by the constant sound. 

 

That simple realization earned the clock a tender look.

 

So, Dave was Red Dasher. He had had a painful and difficult childhood, if it could even be called such, and he ran away to save his little brother. 

Dave worked for an agency with a stupid latin name made up by two words probably in the wrong order that had made sure to ship him across the globe to study his powers and had landed him right there in… City. 

 

Dave and him met on their own, and they fell in love for each other on their own, but Karkat didn't know all that other stuff about Dave, about Red Dasher before. 

 

Karkat didn't really remember anything that lead from looking at the clock to himself sipping coffee in the kitchen, with another warm mug by his side. That’s really how all his day went by: bursts of crystal clear memories, one after the other, but none of them adding up, each of them a lighthouse among stormy thoughts and clouded memories that he could not recall. 

 

How was he supposed to feel about Red Dasher? He guessed he was still Dave, but God, was he insufferable. 

Was Dave insufferable as well? For all he knew Karkat might’ve ended up liking him just because he was Dave, maybe he would find him insufferable again when they started speaking again. 

He did think he was insufferable at first, he’d just started seeing through that with time and like what else Dave was. Maybe Dasher deserved a chance too, his only issue was that he was trying too hard. 

 

He called in sick when the coffee got cold and there was no sign that Dave would be home anytime soon. 

he really just couldn't take his mind off of him, could he?

 

At the end of the day the main problem with Red was that he was coming on too strong to a taken man, but. But it was just Dave. 

And he still knew how to be of help to him as Red Dasher. 

 

Fuck, when he was feeling awful about Dave it was Dave as Red Dasher that made him feel better, it was him that made him forget the dread of having to go home. 

 

The door opened a bit before 11:30.

Karkat was making a bad habit of listening to Dave without him knowing, he should have stopped that already.

 

But it wasn't his fault if his body froze in place. 

He heard the sound of the door being pushed shut, and the keys being unceremoniously thrown on the side table just like Karkat had told Dave one thousand and two times not to do. A smile tugged at his lips as tears made his eyes burn and throat ache. 

 

He heard the sound of Dave throwing himself on the couch and hissing at the impact. Was he hurt? 

 

The next thing he heard was his own voice. 

That’s why he knew the time, he knew at what time his show was on, and his goddamned fiance was listening to it. 

 

Despite being probably injured and despite them being in a.. difficult moment, his fiance was still listening to his radio show. 

And as if that were not enough - 

 

“Pre-recorded…” he sighed that like a little blank affirmation to himself. He could tell the difference. Or maybe he remembered the theme from whenever Karkat came back home with a sore throat but still unwilling to stop bitching about the back up episodes he’d has to record just in case. 

 

He was a dumbass. He was frozen in place and his face was split by a huge smile as he shook, curled up in the kitchen floor. 

 

Breathe in. There was so much he didn't know about Dave, so much he wanted to ask. 

Hold it. It was scary.

Breathe out. He wasn't a stranger though, he cared about Karkat, he would answer. He was already waiting for Karkat to sort his shit out. 

Repeat. He wanted to be able to trust him again. 

 

He was lost in his thoughts, completely absorbed, a blink of an eye turned soon into the three hours it took for his show to end, maybe more. The rest was silence. 

 

Dave lay on the couch, his phone abandoned on the coffee table. He hadn't even closed the blinds, letting the sun come in through the window, lighting his lower body, almost up to his chest. His breathing was slow and steady, highlighted by his hand’s slow rise and fall on his torso. The other one was bent under his head. Was he asleep? He didn't seem to notice, but then again, he didn't react when Karkat passed by what felt like a lifetime ago. 

 

Dave was right there. 

 

What was he supposed to do? 

 

He knew Dave wasn't asleep when he placed a hand on his chest: Dave’s breathing stopped upon impact. Did he think he’d scare Karkat off? 

What a dork. 

 

Karkat found his place on the couch, just barely balancing himself on Dave as he lay down on his side, a leg over Dave’s, his head resting of Dasher’s shoulder. He almost wanted to laugh, of course Dave had a fit body, he wasn't just some economy asshole, he ran around all day and could physical fight people. 

He slit his hand across Dave’s chest, getting in optimal position to hold him and finally, made his whole body relax. He could do that around Dave and Red. 

 

He counted one. two. three heartbeats. Four, five- Dave shifted getting on his side too, throwing an arm over Karkat’s waist, tangling their legs. Karkat ended up with his face in the space between the couch and where Dave’s neck met his shoulder. 

The air he breathed kept coming back on his face and it was so fucking uncomfortable, but it smelled of steel and cold and the smell of hot asphalt hit by rain in the summer and something he could never figure out where he’d smelled it and- Dave. 

 

It was so uncomfortable but Dave was holding onto him like a lifeline, and sure, his own arm was caught awkwardly between them, but he was holding on right back. 

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

“Ssshht…”

“But I am. I wanted to-”

“Dave, stop talking.”

 

The air was kind of chilly, but it was fine: where the sun hit, it warmed up their skin pleasantly, where it didn't they had each other. Pressed up this close he could feel Dave’s heart beat like crazy, mixing with his own frenzied blood biscuit’s drumming. He couldn't even distinguish the two. 

 

“Did you really want to tell me?”

“Of course.” They spoke in whispers, as if not wanting to break the illusion that they were sleeping. 

 

“What was all that with Dasher? Were you just trying to see if I would-”

“No!” For a moment his embrace was a bit tighter. “I just- Karkat, you fucking hate him. What if once you found out that was me you decided you hated Dasher so much you didn't want to be with Dave either? I was… scared.”

“So in those circumstances your brain was so brilliant it decided that the best possible course of action would be lying to me and trying to flirt while I didn't even know who the fuck you were. Were particularly bad ideas for sale that day? Please tell me it wasn't a take two pay one because the first one was already disastrous on its own.” As he spoke, he moved his hand in the air, over their bodies, as if his message would not be able to come across otherwise. Despite it being impossible for Dave to see it. 

 

“I was not smart.”

“On that we can agree on.”

He put his hand to the side of Dave’s neck, his thumb rubbing lazily up and down Dave’s jawbone. 

His other hand he moved over his waist, interlocking his fingers with Dave’s. 

 

He wondered if Dave felt relief, if he was happy. Was he expecting this? 

He squeezed Karkat’s hand in his own, as if to make sure this was real and ok and not about to disappear. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Did you ever use your powers with me, when you were just Dave?”

“Yes.” Karkat went stiff. His breath catching in his chest for a moment, his hand stilling. But the words did not stop coming from Dave. 

“Usually I slow time down after you have a nightmare, to let you sleep a bit more, not make you wake up tired as fuck. You gotta get your beauty sleep right? I pretty much do the same when we might me late to something? And also… Fuck.”

“What?”

“This is the most embarrassing thing ever.”

“Cut the bullshit and tell me, Strider.”

He could've sworn Dave’s breath hiccupped. 

 

“We’re back to family names now?”

“Dave.”

  
  
  


“The first time we slept together.”

“... What?”

“I- You just- I was very excited, and you were so wonderful and it had been so long for me I-”

“You blew it too soon?”

“Didn't want you to know I was a three pump chump apparently.”

Karkat started laughing before he even knew it. It was the final piece he needed. Just giggling and trying to detangle from Dave. That dork. That idiot. He couldn't believe how in love he was with that jackass. 

 

He pulled up to look at him, Dave tried to say something, but couldn't. Red as could be, shifty eyes, and biting his lip. Karkat couldn't help himself, he just had to kiss him before he died of it. 

  
  


He still wanted explanations. He still knew trusting Dave like he did before would take time. There still was the question of what to do with someone that was immune to time shenanigans. 

 

But there was no question of where they were standing. 

 

Dave Strider and Karkat Vantas were going to get married with a small and intimate ceremony, but that was in the winter. For the moment, they kissed on the couch, warmed by a tentative sun and each other. 

 

And that was just it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dunked on!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! How was that?  
> and hey, if ya wanna scream at me, hit me up on discord @Your Knight Of Rage #0203 or on Dreamwidth @ your_knight_of_rage where I'm tryna work on my writing and telling yall all of the story behind well.... stories!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that and if you wanted to leave a tiny little comment it would mean A LOT to me and hey
> 
>  
> 
> thanks!


End file.
